


Cry

by Hannatude



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Open to Interpretation, PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 06:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannatude/pseuds/Hannatude
Summary: Trapped in the Void, he is voiceless, sightless, and hopeless, too broken even to cry.





	Cry

He cannot cry.

His soul is broken, his heart - if he ever had one, monster that he is - shattered. Agony is his constant companion, pain dogs his every aborted movement. His lungs burn, his wounds burn, _everything_ burns and he wants to scream but even his voice - his clever words, his silver tongue - have been ripped from him like pages from a book.   
Like the books he had left behind in his false home, no doubt destroyed along with everything else he had called his own. His journals, his drawings, his projects, his hopes, his dreams, his so-

He winces, feeling his ribs shift and grind against each other. He keens, his thread-sealed lips muffling him. He's distantly aware of the odor of his burnt, necrotic flesh, stale sweat and fluids and the filthy, disgusting, _Jotun_ blood coating his body and his mind recoils as his body cannot. His chafed, bloodied wrists throb, his once graceful, nimble fingers jutting from his broken hands at unnatural angles like twigs from a gnarled branch. His shoulders ache from the eternity he's been stretched out on this rock, bound by these accursed chains in the darkness, like bait in a trap, waiting for death to come and _devour_ him like a starving wol-

He flinches as _They_ return, fingers like hot knives as they rake their hands across his body, drawing blood he can't spare, his seidr all but drained. He feels their laughter in his head, reverberating within his skull, paralyzing him as they take pleasure from his pain, delight in breaking him further, tearing him apart to watch his body sluggishly attempt to knit itself back together over and over and over and it's cold and he's falling and it's dark and it hurts _it hurts so much let him die just let him die **let him die let**_ **me** _ **die**_ **please** _ **let me**_ **die** _ **-**_

  
"Loki?"  
  


He freezes as light filters into the darkness. He blinks, looking down at his hands, blood under his nails. He blinks again as soft, gentle hands take his. He looks up and his tired, burning eyes lock on to his salvation.

  
"Oh, _Loki_."

  
He feels the warm, damp cloth run over his hands and between his fingers before moving up to cleanse his face. His eyelid twitches as soft cotton spreads greasy salve on the furrows he scratched into his own skin. The gentle hands bandage his wounds, causing not pain, but blessed relief. His eyelids flutter shut. A cup is pressed to his scarred, bloody lips. He takes a tentative sip, swishing the warm, salty water around in his mouth, spitting it out into the bowl she holds below his chin. He spits again before opening his mouth wide, his bitten tongue and cheeks already healing. She pats his knee as he begins to drift.

  
"Loki."

  
He feels a solid, tangible warmth pressed to his hands. He opens his eyes and inhales slowly, his nose is filled with the aroma of the syrupy-sweet hot beverage in the mug he now holds. He lifts the cup and drinks it - the thick, sugary liquid fills his entire body with the warmth he so desperately craves, and yet-

He lowers the mug to the floor and inhales again, clinging to the clean, crisp scent of mint and berries in front of him like a drowning man desperately clutches at a life raft. She reaches out to stroke his sweat-soaked hair, idly humming as she runs her fingers through his damp curls. Her voice is like a balm for his wounded, broken soul. He pushes his head against her fingers, leaning into the comfort and safety only she can provide. She wraps her arms around him as he presses his head to her breast.

He cries.

**Author's Note:**

> *wearing elaborate crown of shame*
> 
> Sooo... it's been 3 years since I've written anything, and I broke my silence with this... angsty garbage fire of a fic. I have no excuse or explanation for this, it just... Wouldn't shut up. I apologise. Profusely. While offering blankets, tissues, and cocoa. 
> 
> You can interpret it as you want - and I'd LOVE for you to comment with your interpretations! 
> 
> (please do the thing, I am a needy, insecure child who craves social interaction like the MCU execs crave heteronormativity) 
> 
> You can find ~~me~~ my Darcy Lewis roleplay blog [here](http://d-lewis-avengerwrangler.tumblr.com/), which is a very happy (albeit COMPLETELY INSANE) place to hang out.


End file.
